


Refuge

by adrianna_m_scovill



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Angst, Bullying, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-05
Updated: 2019-12-05
Packaged: 2021-02-24 15:55:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21680548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adrianna_m_scovill/pseuds/adrianna_m_scovill
Summary: For Ray, even though she asked for Barson and there's very little actual Barson in this...Noah has some trouble with bullies, and he gets two very different bits of advice.
Relationships: Rafael Barba & Olivia Benson, Rafael Barba/Olivia Benson
Comments: 9
Kudos: 118





	Refuge

Noah’s dance instructor stopped him before he could leave. “Is your mom here somewhere?”

“I’m gonna meet her at the park,” Noah said, trying his best not to look too proud; the other kids might think he was never allowed to do anything by himself.

“Really?”

“Oh.” Noah swung his duffel bag around on his shoulder so he could dig out his mother’s note to the teacher. “Yeah, honest. Here,” he said, handing over the crumpled paper.

“Okay,” the instructor said after reading the note. “Well, you be careful and go straight there, alright?”

“Oh, sure!” Noah agreed, hurrying out of the studio with a grin on his face. It was a little chilly outside, and he paused on the sidewalk, debating whether or not to pull his jacket out of his bag. He knew his mother would tell him to put it on if she were there, and she’d be a lot happier if he showed up to the park wearing it than if he wasn’t.

“Hey, look who it is.”

Noah froze at the sound of the voice behind him, his stomach immediately clenching. He looked toward the park, but it was a long way away—too far for his mother to see him.

“You know dancing’s for girls?”

Noah felt a flare of irritation that pushed aside a little bit of his fear, and he turned around to face the other boys. There were three of them. He knew them from school, but he hadn’t told his mother or teachers about all the times they’d tripped him or stolen his lunch or called him names.

Noah glanced toward the entrance to the dance studio, but the boys had spread out so his path to the door was blocked. “It’s not only for girls,” he said. He knew his voice sounded shaky but he lifted his chin up, not wanting them to know he was scared. “It’s really hard and fun.”

The tallest of the three boys stepped closer and reached out to give Noah’s curls a sharp tug. Noah only flinched a little, but his heart was slamming in his chest. There was something in their faces that told him it was going to be worse this time. They’d found him outside the relative safety of the school, out of sight of his parent and teachers, and they were already thinking of all the things they could do to him.

He considered asking a stranger for help—surely there were adults who would step in to help?—but he dismissed the idea because he’d been taught to be cautious. “What do you want?” he asked.

“What do you think—”

Noah didn’t give him a chance to finish; he turned and broke into a run, hiking his bag higher on his shoulder. He heard their feet on the sidewalk as they started after him, but he meant to make the most of his head start. Their legs were longer, but he was _fast_. He raced toward the park with a churning stomach and a galloping heart, but he could hear their taunts and knew that they would catch him before he got to his goal.

Up ahead, Noah saw a familiar figure step out of the gym: he was wearing shorts over a pair of sweatpants, and a t-shirt that was wet with perspiration. He was carrying a duffel bag in one hand, and he started to raise his other hand to flag down a taxi but he paused and turned his head in surprise at the sound of Noah’s voice.

“Peter!” Noah called, running toward Stone.

“Noah?” Stone moved into the middle of the sidewalk as Noah skidded to a stop in front of him. He looked past Noah toward the other boys, and Noah chanced a glance back to see that they’d stopped and were hovering at a slight distance. They were already breathing heavily, but Noah was barely winded. He felt a flush of satisfaction at that. “What’s wrong?” Stone asked him, even though it should be pretty obvious.

Noah looked up at him and swallowed, suddenly ashamed as he tried to find the right words. “Those guys…They’re real mean,” he said, shuffling his feet. “Can you…um. Can you walk with me to the park? Mom’s—”

“Noah,” Stone said, settling a hand onto the boy’s shoulder, “running away from bullies doesn’t solve anything. If you want them to leave you alone, you need to stand up to them and tell them that.”

“Yeah, but—” Noah stopped himself from pointing out that there were three of them, that they were each bigger than him, and that they would likely laugh while they ground his face into the pavement. He swallowed, trying not to cry at the sinking sensation in his stomach. Stone wasn’t going to help him. A taxi had already pulled up, and Stone was going to get into the car and leave him to be pummeled. “Can I just ride with you to the park?” he asked, but his voice was small and without conviction.

“Tell you what,” Stone said briskly, holding up a finger to the cab driver, “I’ll wait here while you go talk to them if it’ll make you feel better.”

“Talk to them?”

“Men don’t run away, Noah,” Stone told him.

Noah’s eyes and nose were burning along with his stomach, and all he could manage to say was a quiet: “Okay.” He looked back at the other boys; they were hovering like vultures. He looked ahead toward the park, closer now but still too far. “Um.” He took a deep breath and adjusted his bag. “Okay, bye,” he said.

“Do you want me—Noah?” Stone called as Noah stepped around him and kicked himself into a sprint. “Hey—guys, take it easy,” Stone added, and Noah knew that the other boys were running after him again and that he was on his own. His shoes slapped the sidewalk as he ran, darting around strangers while tears blurred his vision.

Someone stepped directly in front of him and he slammed into them, unable to stop himself in time. He reeled backward and strong hands grabbed his arms to keep him upright. “Noah?” a familiar, concerned voice said.

Noah looked up and blinked his face into focus. “Uncle Rafa,” he whispered, trying to control his relief. He didn’t think Barba would leave him to the bullies like Stone had, but Noah was too upset to know for sure what to believe.

“Are you okay?” Barba asked, glancing up the sidewalk toward the other boys. They’d drawn closer this time, emboldened by Stone’s lack of defense.

“I…I…” Noah swiped at his face, embarrassed by his tears, and sniffled.

“Take a breath, _mijo_ ,” Barba said, and his tone was gentle, kind.

“I’m okay,” Noah muttered. “I’m just—I’m just going to meet Mom at the park.” He looked over his shoulder. The bullies were creeping closer, shortening the distance so he wouldn’t have such an advantage when he started running again.

“Hey,” Barba said, and the sharpness in his voice startled Noah until he realized Barba was talking to the other boys, not him. He watched in surprise as Barba strode toward the group. They glanced at each other and fidgeted but held their ground, and Noah felt a burst of fear for Barba.

Noah followed after him automatically, determined to be brave in case Barba needed his help. The boys probably wouldn’t try to hurt Barba, but Noah knew they didn’t have very much respect for adults so he couldn’t be sure.

“Do you know who I am?” Barba asked.

“How should we?” one of the boys asked, sticking out his chin.

“You famous?” the taller boy added.

“Famous? Yeah, I’m famous,” Barba said, looking them over with disdain clearly written across his face. “I’m the district attorney with the _highest_ conviction rate in all five boroughs—Did you know that bullying is illegal in this state? Statute five, article twenty-seven B.” He paused while the boys glanced uneasily at each other. “How does five years in juvenile detention sound? If you don’t like that idea I could always charge you as adults, I know a lot of judges who _love_ to—”

“We didn’t do nothing.”

Barba grimaced. “I’ll add six months for the double negative.”

“You can’t do anything to us,” one of the other boys said.

Barba cocked an eyebrow. “No? Try me.” He crossed his arms over his chest and stared at them, waiting.

“Come on,” one of the boys said, tugging on the tallest boy’s sleeve. “Let’s get outta here.”

The ringleader looked at Noah. “This isn’t done,” he warned.

“Are you really threatening the son of a police captain in front of a district attorney?” Barba asked, lacing his voice with disbelief.

Noah watched as the boys glared at Barba and turned to head back the way they’d come. When Barba turned to face Noah, Noah fidgeted and dropped his gaze to the sidewalk.

“Are you okay?” Barba asked again. “Did they hurt you?”

Noah shook his head. “I’m okay. I just…Sorry.”

“Sorry?” Barba put a hand on his shoulder. “For what?”

“I know…running away doesn’t fix stuff…”

“Hey.” Barba sank into a crouch in front of him. “Getting beat up by three assholes doesn’t fix anything, either,” he said, and Noah blinked in surprise. Barba grimaced. “Sorry for the language,” he added.

“Peter says men don’t run away.”

Barba hesitated a moment. “Peter Stone?” he asked, and Noah didn’t quite understand the caution in Barba’s voice.

“Yeah.” Noah gestured behind himself. “He was back there, but he said I had to stand up to them…” He trailed off. He thought he saw anger in Barba’s eyes, but it was gone before he could be sure.

“Part of being a man—” Barba stopped himself, considered his words. “Part of being a decent person is knowing when to fight, Noah, and when _not_ to fight. If you want to stand up to them, that’s your choice. You don’t have to let them hurt you just to prove to someone you’re brave. I know you’re brave because you followed me so I wouldn’t be alone.” He glanced at his watch.

“Do you have to go?” Noah asked, doing his best not to sound upset about it. “I’m okay to go—”

Barba patted Noah’s chest. “Don’t worry about it, I’ll walk with you to the park. You know you can talk to me, any time, right?”

Noah nodded. He could feel the relief coursing through him for real, now. “They said dancing is only for girls,” he said.

“Well, they’re clearly idiots,” Barba said, grinning when Noah laughed. “Come on.” He straightened and ruffled Noah’s curls. “Do you have a jacket somewhere? It’s a little cold out here.”

“Oh, yeah,” Noah said. He dropped his bag to the sidewalk and bent to rummage inside, pulling out his coat. Barba held the sleeve to help him put it on, and then Noah swung his bag back onto his shoulder.

“Thank you. How long have you been taking dance lessons?” Barba asked as they started walking toward the park.

“Two months,” Noah said. “I’m—” He stopped himself.

“There’s no shame in taking pride in being good at something,” Barba told him.

Noah considered that for a few moments. “I’m pretty good,” he finally said.

“I’m not surprised. Do you like it?”

“Yes!” Noah exclaimed, grinning. “It’s harder than baseball but lots funner!”

“Let me know when you have a performance I can come see, alright?”

“Yeah?” Noah asked. He beamed at Barba. “Yeah, okay, sure.”

“There’s your mom,” Barba said, and Noah looked ahead and spotted her on a bench at the edge of the park. She was reading something on her phone and hadn’t seen him yet, so Noah stopped walking and turned toward Barba. Barba also stopped and looked down at him.

“Uncle Raf…can I ask you something?”

“Of course,” Barba said.

“Did you and Mom have a fight?”

Barba released a breath through his nose and looked toward the park for a few seconds. “No.”

“How come you don’t come around anymore?”

“Your mom and I don’t work together anymore,” Barba said.

“But…aren’t you friends?”

Barba met his eyes. Noah thought he might say it was complicated, or that Noah was too young to understand. Adults liked to say stuff like that. Instead, Barba just said, “Yes, we’re friends.”

“I told her I missed you and she said she does, too,” Noah told him. He wasn’t sure if his mom would be mad that he’d said so, but he thought Barba needed to know. “I think she’d be real happy if you came over for dinner.” Noah paused. “I can ask her if you want.”

Barba was looking toward the park, and Noah turned his head to see that Benson had spotted them and was walking slowly toward them. “No,” Barba said, putting his hand on Noah’s shoulder as they started toward Benson. “I’ll ask.”

“Really?” Noah looked at his mom. She was looking at Barba, and she was smiling. Noah let himself hope, let himself remember how much he’d always wanted Barba to be his dad. Maybe it wasn’t too late, after all.

“Yeah, really,” Barba said, shooting Noah a crooked smile. “But no matter what happens, remember you can always talk to me about anything, okay?”

Noah nodded and turned on impulse to give Barba a quick hug. “Thanks, Uncle Rafa,” he said. When he drew back, his mom had reached them. Noah looked up at them while they looked at each other.

“Hi,” Benson said. Her voice was soft, even though she seemed a little confused to see Barba with Noah.

“Hi,” Barba said, and his voice was even softer. He cleared his throat. “How’ve you been, Liv?”

“Not bad,” she said, although Noah supposed there was a lot of stuff she’d like to tell Barba about if Noah wasn’t around to hear.

“I’m hungry,” Noah said, just in case Barba needed help.

“Oh. Yeah, it’s spaghetti night,” Benson said, smiling at her son. She hesitated and looked at Barba. “If you don’t have anywhere to be…” She trailed off, and she looked like she expected him to say he _did_ have somewhere to be.

“Spaghetti night is the best night,” Barba answered. He smiled at Benson. “I’ve missed it. If you’ve got room for one more…?”

“Always,” Benson said. She smiled at Barba.

Noah smiled to himself.


End file.
